


And when your fairytale is through.

by Werepirechick



Category: The Shape of Water (2017)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cohabitation, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Families of Choice, Family Fluff, Fix-It of Sorts, Friendship, I just want them all to be happy, Male-Female Friendship, Muteness, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-Canon, Sea Monsters, Sign Language, Small Towns, barely in there but ya know, bc the movie needed a liiiiittle more to it, its THERE, just.... all the good things, the author doesn't actually know anything about anything, they just want fluffy things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 12:32:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13213836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Werepirechick/pseuds/Werepirechick
Summary: Once the police are done stripping Elisa’s apartment of items with ‘questionable origin’, the non-disclosure papers are signed, and a hefty ‘goodwill’ sum deposited in Giles’s bank account, he’s not entirely sure what to do with himself.It’s been only a few days, hardly a week, and he’s already starting to feel suffocated by the quiet of his apartment.Which makes the sound of a swift and polite knock on his door all the more surprising.





	And when your fairytale is through.

**Author's Note:**

> i! loved the shape of water!! i just felt like i could have a bit of fun tying up the rest of the plot, post-canon.
> 
> enjoy fun and fluffy things, which i ironically finished while experiencing severe laryngitis.

Once the police are done stripping Elisa’s apartment of items with ‘questionable origin’, the non-disclosure papers are signed, and a hefty ‘goodwill’ sum deposited in Giles’s bank account, he’s not entirely sure what to do with himself.

He’s been loaded up with hush money, told under no reason should anyone talk about his whole drama ever again, and he’s short one best friend.

Giles sits in his apartment, with his only remaining companions butting their heads against his hands and shins, and feels so very alone.

He scratches the head of his closest cat, trying to find a direction to take himself in. Giles has no job, that’s been made quite clear. He’s got no friends to mourn with, even if he were allowed to even breathe about Elisa’s death. All he’s got for comfort are his cats, money, and what little of Elisa’s things he was able to salvage.

He casts a glance at the coffee table, where Elisa’s record and vinyl collection sits. He hadn’t been allowed to save anything more than that. Other than those items, he’s left with no evidence any of it happened at all. That his dear friend was ever here, or the monster she’d fallen in love with. The men in black coats with stern expressions have long since taken (and likely destroyed) all of Giles’s artwork of the creature.

Not that that will stop him from creating more. They can give him all the money and glares they want, but Giles won’t forget Elisa and her monster any time soon.

Memory is slim comfort, sitting around like Giles is and not even being able to give Elisa a proper goodbye. No body, no death certificate, no funeral. As far as the government is concerned, Elisa Esposito never existed.

And what a terrible end to her story that is.

Giles wonders if he could call Elisa’s friend, Zelda. They’ve hardly talked, even in the wake of Elisa’s death and everything it entailed, but at least the woman could fill the silence in the air. It’s an odd thing to be bothered by, considering Elisa couldn’t talk.

It’s been only a few days, hardly a week, and he’s already starting to feel suffocated by the quiet of his apartment.

Which makes the sound of a swift and polite knock on his door all the more surprising.

Giles stands, shooing his cats out of the way as he heads for the door. If it’s more of the men in black, come to frown and hurrumph and march around like Giles is hiding _another_ creature somewhere in his home, Giles is fairly certain he might get sharp with them.

He is not expecting a petite figure to be standing there, dripping a dark puddle into the hallway carpet.

He is not expecting the sweet and familiar smile of his best friend to greet him.

He is not expecting Elisa.

 _Hello,_ Elisa signs, still smiling, though now albeit sheepishly. _They’ve taken all my things out of my apartment. Do you have any spare towels?_

Elisa is soaked through, missing her shoes, and wearing the oddest and ugliest of scarves around her neck that smells faintly like trash. Giles hugs her tightly regardless.

 

 

Elisa has gills now, apparently. It explains the ugly and dirty scarf, if nothing else about the situation.

She sits at Giles’s small dining table, wrapped in towels, nibbling on the cookies Giles put out. As though she’s just gotten caught in a bad rainstorm on the way home, and not come back from the dead smelling like the sea.

Giles feels he’s handled the whole thing fairly well. There was only need for one box of tissues, and he swears his hysteria lasted only as long as the box did.

A friend coming back from the dead doesn’t happen very often, he feels he deserves some slack here.

“And he’s just… waiting for you? Out there?” Giles asks. He has already accepted that Elisa’s creature brought her back to life, and given her the ability to breathe underwater. At this point it’s the fact they’re still in Baltimore he doesn’t understand.

 _I wanted to come back and let you know I’m alright,_ Elisa signs. _It would be awful of me to let you think I was dead._

“Well, can’t argue with that,” Giles sighs. “I didn’t enjoy the last week much, let me tell you.”

 _Sorry,_ Elisa signs sincerely. She eats another cookie in two short bites. _Also, raw fish is only good for a meal so many times._

Giles raises his eyebrows above his glasses, and decides he’ll remark upon that later. It seems that not just her respiratory system has been altered.

 _And… there’s another thing I needed to ask,_ Elisa signs slowly, looking a tad unsure.

“And that is?” Giles asks gamely.

_How attached to Baltimore are you?_

Giles scoffs under his breath. “After everything that’s happened? Not particularly, no. I think our landlord is about to kick me out anyway, for all the fuss with suits and blatant cover-ups and the water damage. Thanks for the last one.”

Elisa has the decency to flush about the water damage. Though perhaps not for the reason Giles would like her to be.

“Why?” Giles asks.

 _We need somewhere to go,_ Elisa explains, explaining nothing at the same time.

“What, you’re not both swimming off into the horizon and back to wherever he came from? I meant to ask about that, actually. After all the effort getting him to the sea, why stick around?”

Elisa shakes her head.

 _I can’t swim that far, I’d be exhausted within a day even if he helped me,_ she signs. _And I wouldn’t be very happy there either. Not to be offensive to him, but it doesn’t sound hospitable to someone like me._

“A human?” Giles offers.

 _Not quite, but essentially,_ Elisa gestures at her exposed neck, where the little gills are flattened shut and waiting for water again. _I can breathe underwater now, but I’m not someone like him. He agreed it wouldn’t work even if I could get there with him._

“And you want from me _what_ exactly…?”

 _Baltimore isn’t safe,_ Elisa signs firmly. _We’ll all get caught, and he needs cleaner water, too. The bay is filthy. There are better waters elsewhere, but they’re farther away._ She winces, grimacing. _I’m asking a lot of you, sorry._

“It’s starting to sound like it, but hell. I’ve done this much already.”

Elisa smiles gratefully, warmth in her eyes. She might breathe underwater now, but she’s still very much the same woman Giles befriended all those years ago when she moved next door.

_Have you ever thought about living somewhere else by the seaside? In a proper seaside town?_

“Can’t say I haven’t. Most artists do at some point,” Giles thinks about it. “Quiet, isolated. Ideal for you two, probably someone like me, too. And you really want me along for the ride, huh?”

 _Yes,_ Elisa signs. _It would be easier with two people paying for fees, and you can speak._ She pauses, and then adds, _and I’d miss you._

Giles sighs, finding himself smiling fondly.

“You weren’t dead a full week, and I missed you _terribly_ , Elisa,” Giles says truthfully. Even counting the few men he’s been with and let go of over the years, none of those relationships compared to Elisa’s friendship, or the brief loss of it. “I think splitting rent and playing advocate sounds fine to me. This town is full of shifty government lackies anyway, I’m sick of them.”

Elisa smiles like the sun rising.

 _Thank you,_ she signs rapidly, and then stands just as quick. The towel around her shoulders falls as she darts around the table, and Giles is treated to another damp hug.

It’s no more unwelcome than the first dozen had been.

 

 

It’s not done within a day, or two, or even another week. It takes real estate wrangling and long hours talking on the phone with agents in different towns and _so much paperwork._ Elisa’s presence is hardly a comfort through the whole process, since she can’t take over the conversations. It’s stressful, but eventually Giles’s apartment is packed up and he’s got a moving truck filled. His cats are none too pleased to be in their carriers like they are, and Giles hasn’t done this much physical work in years, lifting and packing and hauling his things about.

It’ll be worth it though, since Elisa is starting to look truly waterlogged, hiding in the ocean majority of the time like she is, and Giles is tiring of neighborhood stares. His diner darling let slip a few things, and with the rumors of government scandals and his dead best friend, Giles doubts he’ll be welcome anywhere nearby much longer.

Zelda sees him off, hands on her hips and a nice new hat on her head.

“Just be glad I’ve got money to come visit now,” She says sternly, exampled by how smartly she’s dressed. “I’d’ve had a couple things to say if I didn’t, seeing as you two decided to move so darn far up the coast. Expect me soon as you ring that you’re all moved in, my Brewster already knows I’ll be making a number of trips out your way the next while.”

“I’d expect he would be aware,” Giles says dryly.

Zelda fixes a warning stare on him for sass. Giles wisely backs down before he’s even fully stepped up.

“Don’t let her wander around without clothes on, you hear?” Zelda instructs. She clicks her tongue admonishingly. “Magical nonsense or not, ‘lisa’s gonna catch her death of cold one of these days.”

“I assure you, I’m trying to keep her in them as much as possible,” Giles says. Their friend is embracing her status as a non-existent, semi-magical mostly-human being a little too much.

 _Slows me down in the water,_ Elisa had told him, when she’d shown up on the shore minus everything but her undergarments. _Plus, I don’t get cold anymore._

 _“Put your god damn clothes on, woman!”_ had been Zelda’s reaction to the statement. And the first thing she said to Elisa when they reunited. It had been about as dramatic and tissue worthy as Giles’s had been.

“Drive safely,” Zelda says, more of a command than well-wishing, and gives him a tin of homemade muffins for the road. Giles bids her goodbye, climbs into the truck he’s mostly certain he can drive without issue, and starts off to follow his best friend and her monster up the coastline.

 

 

Giles drives for a number of days; having to stop every evening to find a hotel room, sneak his cats in, and get them to discreetly romp around a bit while he slept for a few hours. He somehow isn’t caught even once, though he does have a slight scare as he leaves one in particular.

The owner’s eyes follow him out the door like daggers pointed at his back, and he can’t tell if it’s because of the cats he snuck out earlier, or the chance that she (somehow) might have suspicions of his sexuality. Just as well he stays only a short while. That hotel room had a lumpy bed anyway.

But rolling up onto the last hill before he reaches the town, though. That sight of green against blue stirs the artist in him with a sudden rush- grass and trees giving way to a gorgeous borderless ocean horizon. It’s all stunning as the sun dips low in the sky. He nearly pulls over right then to sketch it; it’s so very lovely and so very different from anything he drew in Baltimore.

Giles doesn’t though, since he’s got two individuals waiting on his arrival. He makes a promise to himself he’ll come back to this hill again in the future.

The town is small, populated with a scant few thousand. It takes him very little time to drive through it, past shops cleaning up for closing time and diners getting ready for dinner rush. People point and stare at Giles as he goes by, but for the first time in a while it’s simply because he’s an unfamiliar face. It’s a good change.

Giles stops briefly to get a few groceries. He’s been living off diners and takeout for days, and he knows Elisa will want something other than fish.

The small house he’s bought is on the far edge of town, close to the sea as possible and as far from other people as well. Given the guests he’ll be having, and the shenanigans that they no doubt will bring, it’s best to pre-emptively isolate themselves.

Elisa is on the steps when he pulls up the dirt road, dressed in the clothes he’d made sure were mailed up before moving day. Because as much as Giles loves his best friend, and isn’t attracted to her, he has seen plenty enough of Elisa’s privates for this lifetime.

Elisa rises from the steps as he gets out of the truck, smiling brightly.

 _Welcome home,_ she signs. Behind her, the small blue house they’re going to be sharing looks homely to say the least, with peeling paint and worn shutters. But it’s nice. It looks sturdy and dependable.

“Happy to be,” Giles replies warmly, and walks over to tug her into a hug. She smells strongly of the ocean and is damp in his arms, but neither of those things bothers him.

 

 

It’s as Giles is pulling out the umpteenth box of possessions that Elisa’s monster shows up.

Giles turns around to walk back into the house, and there he is, standing in the gloom of twilight right behind Giles. It’s an unpleasant startle, for both of them, as Giles yelps.

Elisa comes running out of the house at both of their panicking, calming things back down. Giles leans on the side of the moving truck with a hand over his heart, while Elisa steps close to her creature to put her hands against his face, stroking gently. Giles watches as the surprised flair of the creature’s fins droops, and Elisa presses soft kisses against his scales.

Giles rolls his eyes and looks elsewhere as the kisses are returned, and start to edge towards heated.

“Okay, enough of the honeymooning,” He chastises, bending to gather up the box he’d dropped. “I didn’t drive all this way just so you two could stand there and watch me unload. Elisa, get him to help me bring in the couches.”

It takes some doing, using both proper sign language and charades, but Elisa somehow manages to explain to her monster what needs to happen. Giles has to resign himself to a few punctures in the furniture, courtesy of a certain someone’s claws.

Giles, as he fumbles to direct the heavy piece of furniture between them, suspects that the creature thinks the whole process is some sort of game. It would explain the chirping trills he makes to Elisa every time they bring in a new piece of the living room.

At least he’s strong enough to bear most of the weight. Giles’s much abused lower back is already tired from the days of driving.

By the time it’s late at night, they’ve got the house full of unpacked boxes and plastic wrapped furniture. Giles sits down at the kitchen table, wiping his brow and letting out a tired sigh. Elisa joins him, similarly tired from taking most of the bedroom boxes upstairs. Her creature takes a seat as well, blinking at them curiously and leaving a damp spot on Giles’s nice wooden chair.

He should just buy plastic and be done with it, honestly. Nothing in this house will ever be safe from water damage.

“Dinner?” Giles asks. “I’ve got eggs and ham.”

 _Sounds wonderful,_ Elisa signs.

 _Eggs!_ is her creature’s enthusiastic contribution, smiling with his yellowish teeth.

They eat the entire carton of eggs for dinner, tempered with some sliced ham and lettuce on bread. Giles has to shoo the creature away from his cats only once, sternly reminding him that _no,_ just because they’re small and chirp like him, does not mean he gets to play with them. Giles would rather not end his first night here with another dead cat.

He leaves Elisa to say goodnight to her scaly lover, cleaning up after dinner while they walk out into the darkness. Maybe Elisa will sleep in the ocean with him, maybe she’ll come back to their home. it doesn’t really matter to Giles; he’s too tired to do more than leave a key under the potted plant outside, put out some kitty food, and stumble upstairs to his room.

Giles doesn’t even bother trying to get his bedframe together. He just digs out his pajamas and throws a few blankets over his mattress, lying down and falling asleep almost immediately.

 

 

In the morning, Elisa is sleeping on the couch, wrapped in a light blanket and smiling faintly in her sleep. The blanket has come untucked from her feet, exposing the pale digits.

Whether she gets cold anymore or not, Giles makes sure to tuck the blanket back around them. Just in case.

 

 

Giles only has so many possessions, especially given he lived in an apartment before this house. It’s really the fussing of where everything will actually _go_ than unpacking that takes so long. It’s still quite a mess by the time Zelda marches into the home, a travel case under one arm and a bag of groceries under the other.

“Men,” Zelda sniffs, pushing her suitcase into Giles’s arms. “None of you know the first thing about making house. Step aside.”

He’d barely called her a few days ago. How Zelda could arrange a trip so quickly is beyond him.

Giles doesn’t question it though, once there’s fresh coffee and biscuits on the table. Or even after that, when Zelda claps her hands and puts them to work. She’s a force to be reckoned with, once an apron is around her waist.

Things go a lot smoother with Zelda to give direction. There is also considerably more chatter through the process, now that there’s someone besides Giles who can speak. Speak English, at least. Elisa’s monster makes plenty noise all by himself, even if no one but Elisa can understand him.

The house looks much less of a disaster by the time dinner rolls around, for which Giles is very grateful for, even if he’s quite sick of cleaning and shelving and keeping his cats and the creature separate. His cats make their displeasure about the move quite obvious; getting underfoot everywhere they go, and meowing disapprovingly that all their favorite nap spots are back in Baltimore.

They’re somewhat mollified by the fish Elisa’s creature keeps bringing to the house, snacking on bits of raw meat at the same time as the creature. Zelda eyes said fish and snacking with an only somewhat disgusted expression.

“Better than market fish, at least,” she remarks, and shoos everyone out of the kitchen so she can cook. She uses lemon juice, oils, and seasonings Giles wasn’t even aware he owned, and soon enough has a meal that makes them all happy.

Giles passes out glasses of wine to everyone except the creature, given that he draws his lips back in a disgusted hiss when it’s shown to him by Elisa. Fermented grapes aren’t for him, it seems. The cooked fish however disappears in quick, short bites, followed by the boiled eggs Elisa made especially for him.

It’s a warm and good meal, all four of them and Giles’s wandering cats packed into the cozy little kitchen. Zelda’s voice fills the air where Giles’s would have drifted off into quiet, complimented by Elisa and her creature’s (mostly) silent conversation. The delicious fish and accompanying salad only lasts a short while between them all.

Zelda takes the room they’ve finally gotten set up for Elisa, on Elisa’s insistence.

 _I’ll just sleep in the ocean,_ she signs, straight faced. Giles has to cough into his hand to hide his laughter as Zelda rolls her eyes at the ceiling, exasperated. Only Elisa’s creature thinks that arrangement is perfectly acceptable, trilling happily as they depart hand in hand.

Zelda says aloud that she just hopes their mutual friend keeps her clothes on this time. Giles doesn’t say how very much he doubts that will happen.

 

 

Zelda only has so many days to stay, since the bus ride and then train home will take so much time. She spends it mostly taking Elisa into town and getting her more clothes than the ones she’s got, and then spending the evening with Elisa in the living room; helping tailor the shirts, skirts, and dresses to a perfect fit. Giles keeps out of their way, minding his own business as they converse; Zelda verbally, Elisa silently.

He spends those evenings sketching in his armchair, drawing Elisa, Zelda, and the creature in various poses and moments. His cats, too, when one decides Zelda’s lap is the place to take a nap. Giles learns that while Zelda has a stern tongue, she’s too soft to just move the cat and get back to her sewing.

“Darn beast,” Zelda says to it. Giles’s cat meows and bumps its head against her stomach, demanding pets. Zelda gives the cat the attention it’s demanding, pretending like she’s not pleased to do so.

Elisa’s creature sees the exchange from where he sits on the floor by the couch, and turns to Elisa with an expectant expression. When she doesn’t do anything besides sign _what is it,_ he reaches over and grabs her wrist, putting it on his head.

Elisa laughs soundlessly, delicately scratching behind and around the fins of her creature. He all but purrs, warbly and deep. Zelda tuts at them. Giles’s cat purrs quietly in her lap.

Giles turns the page of his sketchbook, setting his lead to a blank space and filling it with this tender, and rather humorous, moment. Elisa’s record player plays on in the background, smooth voices acting as chorus to the rise and fall of actual conversation.

 

 

Zelda leaves to go home, but not before giving Elisa a firm hug, and firmer instruction to invest in multiple bathing suits. And not without promising to return sooner than later, once she’s spent another few weeks at home.

“It just isn’t the same without you there, ‘lisa,” Zelda says to their mutual friend. Elisa signs back in turn, _it’s not the same without you here, either._

“There’s such a thing as letters,” Giles offers, seeing as a telephone would only be useful on one end. Both of the women roll their eyes at him.

“You both take care now, you hear?” Zelda says before getting on the bus, patting Elisa’s cheek. Giles sees in Elisa’s expression how hard it is to see her friend off, but the scarf around her neck is a clear enough sign of where her firmest emotional ties lie.

And besides, it’s not like a dead (and subsequently erased by the government) individual can waltz into Baltimore and ask for her job back. Not that Elisa would likely want it.

Giles pats his dear friend on the back, and gives her a one armed hug. Elisa wraps an arm around his midriff in return, and leaves it there as they walk back towards the main street of town. There’s a diner that sells much better pie than that one in Baltimore did along that road, and much friendlier owners.

Giles wonders if he’s imagining the side-eye the waiter gives him. He doesn’t let himself entertain the thought for long.

The extra slice of apple pie though, brought and given without pay, begs further consideration. As does the smile the man gives Giles.

 _He likes you,_ Elisa signs, even as Giles tries to stop her fluid gestures. In case someone nearby happens to know sign language, however rare that is.

“He does not,” Giles whispers firmly.

 _He was watching your backside very closely when we left,_ Elisa informs him.

Giles is too old to feel as flustered as he does by that information.

 

 

Giles might be used to finding odd damp spots here and there in his home, or scraps of seaweed tracked inside and sand left in every floor crevice, but he will _not_ let their floors be damaged like this.

“You have the whole ocean now!” Giles exclaims, gesturing widely. “None of that in this house. None!”

Elisa huffs, crossing her arms across her chest. Her creature peers around her, gurgling questioningly. Probably about why they’re in the hallway being scolded by Giles, rather than making a mess of the bathroom.

“The _entire ocean,_ Elisa,” Giles stresses. “Please.”

Elisa huffs again, but goes and shuts off the water of the bathtub. Giles sighs, grateful he’d noticed what was happening before it actually got underway, and that he’d interrupted before Elisa’s robe ended up on the floor.

 

 

Elisa gets a part time, no questions asked job in town, as a florist’s assistant of all things. Giles doesn’t know how she managed that, seeing as Elisa has never shown inclination towards flowers of any sort before.

Perhaps the older woman running the store felt poorly for the mute girl. But it pays a decent wage, and has an even more so decent owner, so neither Giles nor Elisa feels need to question further.

Elisa brings home the unsaleable flowers, tucking their bent stems and bruise petals into vases and jars. Giles paints portraits of them, one after another, and steadily their little house fills up with bright colors.

He’s not in deep need of a job just yet, not with the size of his bank account, but looking towards the future would be a good idea. There are few local artists, to say none at all, so he feels he may have a fair chance at getting revenue from that.

When Elisa brings a few of his watercolors around, the florist shop woman, Delilah ironically, asks him to redo her shop window’s painted sign. It’s a blocky, very amateur sort of job that’s faded badly. Giles takes great joy in wiping it out of existence, replacing it with smooth curls and whorls, elegant but bold.

People take notice. Of the sign and the watercolors both. In small towns, word travels very, very fast.

“This was a good idea,” Giles says one evening, reviewing a number of orders he’s accumulated recently. For signs and portraits both. “Moving here, getting out of that darned apartment. Best decision we’ve made in a long while.”

Elisa smiles, setting down her book to free her hands. _You’re welcome,_ she signs, definitively cheeky about it.

“Hmph, you’re just smug because you get laid regularly.”

_You would too, if you would just-_

“We’re not talking about him!”

_So there’s a ‘him’ now?_

Giles knows Elisa is laughing at him as he sputters, even with closed lips and a silent smile.

 

 

Giles refuses to give Elisa any credit to her predictions, the night he finds a number hidden in the napkin their handsome waiter brings.

The waiter’s name is Dave. He’d like Giles to call him some time, as clearly stated beside the scrawled digits. He's about the same age as Giles and unmarried, judging from the ringless fingers of his work worn hands. Giles wonders just how those hands will feel, or the greying stubble of Dave's chin, against his skin.

Giles breaks out the good brandy that evening, celebrating with Elisa in their home, and the creature, too, once he emerges from the outside darkness. Elisa’s monster doesn’t seem to really understand _why_ it’s been difficult for Giles to find someone, but is clearly happy Giles finally has.

After a few drinks, Giles takes the creature’s hand and places the clammy thing on his head.

“If you’d be so kind,” he tells him. The amphibious being just looks at him curiously, and then makes a soft chirrupy _“ah!”_ sound.

He firmly pats Giles’s head a few times. Giles splutters.

Elisa is wheezing, holding her sides, as Giles tries to get their monster to understand that he wants more hair to grow on his head, not _head pats._

 

 

The next time Zelda comes into town to visit, they take themselves down to part of the beach no one in their right mind would swim at. Rocks everywhere, sand that’s more gravel than fine grains, a wicked tide that comes in every evening at five and washing everything under deep water; the entire inlet surrounded by high, ugly rock face.

It makes for a perfect picnic spot, given the company they’re entertaining. Giles brings down one of his thicker blankets, setting it on the damp ground and spreading it flat so Zelda and Elisa can put down their items. The picnic basket, filled with goods better than Giles could ever make himself, and an old but faithful record player with its vinyls.

As Elisa cues up the first record, her creature comes up from the waves like the beautiful walking nightmare he is. He approaches them all with the usual customary greeting, chirruping low in his throat. Giles raises a hand to wave, along with Zelda, and Elisa makes sure he keeps to the side of the blanket that has extra towels laid on it, thankfully.

It’s certainly not an ordinary picnic, made up of normal sweets and savories and abnormal raw fish saved for the occasion, but its routine enough for the four of them. All that’s missing is Giles’s cats, who were left back home for obvious reasons.

It’s just sunny enough outside, and warm enough despite the nearly winter month, that they don’t get chilled while they eat. The wind is low, barely a breeze off the frigid waves, and the food disappears quickly. When it’s all gone, things lapse into slow conversation. Elisa’s creature with his head on her lap, leaving a damp stain in the fabric and licking his clawed fingers of egg juice; Elisa listening to Zelda talk on about things back home and all the crazy stories that have been spun about the drama that went down, and Giles with his sketchbook, contributing when he feels like it.

Giles carefully sketches the fins of the creature dozing, curled partially around his chosen partner, and delicately creates the lines of Elisa’s blue dress. Zelda and her newest hat purchase he outlines with equal detail, trying to capture the liveliness of her largely one-sided conversation. He leaves himself out of the picture; he knows what he looks like, and he’s not the sort of artist interested in self-reflection.

Besides. He’d feel too tempted to lie about his hairline, and Elisa would never let that be without at least some teasing.

 

 

In a quiet little town, they make a home for themselves. One that is regularly visited by only three guests; two of which aren’t that all that unusual at all, and one that is far beyond unusual.

Elisa gets to have her monster, which may or may not be an immortal being, and Giles gets to have his cats, his artwork, and sometimes Dave. Zelda, when she can travel, adds herself to that equation without hesitation.

In their worn blue house, sometimes occupied by two, or three, or four, or just two on special nights depending who needs it- they steadily create a cozy little life for themselves. It’s a life no more isolated than the one they had in Baltimore, but certainly richer in quality.

Giles finds that this is a much more satisfying end to their story, however far from that end they might still be.

**Author's Note:**

> if you don't look too closely at any of this, it's good.
> 
> edit 20/02/2018: alright so because i keep getting people say "-but the thing that would make this perfect is zelda divorcing her husband", i'm coming back to say something on that. this movie was set in a time period that was pretty damn hard to live in if you were a woman- even more so if you were a black woman. it would have been possible for zelda to divorce her husband, but it would have been extremely difficult. for even a white woman to divorce her husband was a huge social taboo, and i imagine it would have been only worse for a black woman. from my perspective, zelda had an okay partner. he might not have been the most attentive or communicative, but he provided and was faithful. in the 1960's era, that would be considered a good marriage.
> 
> in our era now, after plenty of progression in social rights and values, zelda might not have married brewster at all. but in the time period this was set in, it was expected of a woman to marry one man and stay with him through the rest of their lives. ideally she could strike out on her own, but given circumstances of prejudice and segregation in this story, zelda will remain with brewster.


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